


i will be there when you fall

by Wind_Writes



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't Judge Me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Just Needed This Ok, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: The air around her was quiet, no sound of battle cries or clashes of iron. No screams of pain or the voices of others clattering around in her head; if she hadn’t picked up the steady, slow, heartbeat of another, Yennefer would have sworn she was alone.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 40
Kudos: 248





	i will be there when you fall

The first thing her brain registered was pain. Her abdomen protested with every breath she took and her head ached like it never had before. Not brave enough to open her eyes just yet, fearful of what she would find, Yennefer began a mental check of her person. Her limbs felt heavy, as if someone had tied weights to her wrists and ankles, and she could feel tremors of exhaustion and pain ripple through her when she tried to move. The fact that she could move after some effort meant that she had survived and that, in and of itself, surprised her.

The air around her was quiet, no sound of battle cries or clashes of iron. No screams of pain or the voices of others clattering around in her head; if she hadn’t picked up the steady, slow, heartbeat of another, Yennefer would have sworn she was alone.

“Yennefer,” his voice was low and gravely and her heart clenched at the sound. 

It was a voice she hadn’t heard in ages, one she had sworn she never wanted to hear again. Her brows furrowed and Yennefer shifted away as his boots scuffed against the dirt floor. This couldn’t be real, he wasn’t supposed to be here. The last time they’d seen each other they had separated on less than ideal terms and being war fatigued, bruised and bloody was not how Yennefer planned on walking back into his life. She’d wanted something with more class, more glam, and ideally where he was the one in need of her help.

A calloused thumb ghosted across Yennefer’s cheek and coaxed her head back, being careful not to rattle her anymore than necessary. “Come on Yen. Open your eyes.”

Yennefer groaned and swiped at the hand on her face. If he would just let her drift back off into oblivion she could sink back into the peaceful darkness and ignore anything and everything that awaited her, but his continued attention wouldn’t allow it.

Her lashes fluttered against her cheek and Yennefer groaned again when everything in her sight was blurry. She could make out the flickering of candles across the room, telling her it was past daylight hours, and a few makeshift pieces of furniture that were scattered around the room. A familiar bag of weaponry was propped up beside the door and the silver hair and familiar features of a man she thought was long gone came cleanly into her line of sight.

“There’s my girl,” Geralt murmured, a flicker of relief crossing his golden eyes.

He hadn’t known what to expect as he rode up on the aftermath of Sodden, but the scorched earth and destruction it caused had sent him in a panic to find Yennefer, terrified by the thought of having to find her amongst the dead. 

Time had crept along deathly slow for Geralt as he’d kept watch over the sorceress. She’d moved very little, the only sign of life being the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and he’d caught himself on more than one occasion checking her pulse when he was sure she had stopped breathing. 

Yennefer struggled to right herself, the pain radiating from the wound on her abdomen causing her to hiss. “Geralt. Where-”

“Easy,” he interrupted, nudging Yennefer back. 

She sucked in a breath through her nose, the walls around her beginning to spin, and settled back against the makeshift bed she had been put on. The room was small, but furnished, and it smelled of horses and death. The hated scent of war clung to her; it was in her hair, on her clothes, stuck in her pores and she was sure that it would still be there even after a proper bath. 

Geralt looked about as good as she felt. Soot and blood clung to his skin and clothing, and exhaustion etched deeply into his eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was from his past explorations or the situation they currently found themselves in, but either way it was obvious the man hadn’t slept.

Yennefer shifted again to sit up, successful this time, though it cost her. “Where are we.”

“Just outside of Sodden.” Geralt moved to sit beside her on the bed, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re safe.”

The scene hit her like a sack of rocks, the coppery taste of blood, the smell of burning flesh and the screams of agony from enemies and allies alike. Glass eyed corpses littered the interior of the compound and the fields outside it and the sight of blood clinging to every surface soured Yennefer’s stomach. The last thing she could recall was her struggle to get outside the main gate and then the release of chaos she’d been holding in for so long. 

“I wasn’t supposed to live through it,” she murmured, talking to herself more than the witcher that sat beside her.

Geralt’s features sobered, the matter of fact way Yennefer spoke sent a tremor through his heart. In the years they’d spent covering each others ass and living to fight another day, Geralt had never seen Yennefer quite this defeated, this accepting of death.

“You saved them, Yen.”

She scoffed, knowing full well the damage that had been done before she’d stepped up. How many hadn’t she saved was the bigger question. “What was the count.”

Geralt hesitated. The losses on both sides had been great, but he knew she wasn’t asking about all the casualties. She wanted to know the loss to her people, the ones who had gone against the Council. 

He reached out and wiped away a smear of dried blood that clung to her cheek, voice grave and his eyes unable to meet her own. “It’s not important.”

“Dammit, Geralt. Tell me,” Yennefer spoke through gritted teeth. Eyes hot with temper, she gave the man her full attention, irritated that he just stared back at her, giving nothing he was feeling away.

Geralt’s lips turned up despite the conversation. Seeing a flash of Yennefer’s temper sent a wave of relief through his system and told him she’d be alright. She may be bruised and beaten, maybe even regretting living through the battle, but the fire burning inside her was not diminished, despite the circumstances, and she would survive.

Yennefer continued to watch him, the stubbornness in her eyes unwavering and Geralt sighed. “Fourteen.”

Images of Triss’s badly burned body, Coral’s limbs ripped from her torso and Sabrinia just laying on the ground, lifeless below the tower danced in Yennefer’s head and it made her stomach roll. So many lives lost and for what? There was no guarantee that Nilfgaard had been sent back to the hole they crawled out of and if Fringilla still walked this earth, Yennefer wasn’t convinced this would be the last time the two of them tussled. 

“Who survived?” Yennefer hated to ask the question but maybe, just maybe, those most important to her had come out on the other end of this.

Geralt sighed knowing he wouldn’t be able to give Yennefer the details she wanted. He’d seen a few mages that he recognized and even fewer that he’d actually known by name, but everything had been in a state of chaos and his one focus had been on finding her. “I don’t know.”

A cold sweat broke out across her skin at the next fleeting thought that entered her mind, unsure if she wanted to know the answer but unwilling to wait and see. ”Tissaia? Is she-” 

“She’s alive.” Geralt cut Yennefer off before she could get any further, knowing full well what the sorceress was thinking. He didn’t know much about the state of the Mages, but he did know her mentor had made it through.

At Geralt’s reassurance, a tear spilled down Yennefer’s cheek and she started to shake. Scared, relieved, exhausted, every emotion that had been coursing through her system released at once and a hiccuping cry escaped her when Geralt gathered her in his arms and held her. 

Yennefer fought against Geralt’s hold, her words lost in the hollow of his neck. “Let go.”

“Will you stop fighting for one second,” Geralt growled. Everything was always an argument with her. Even now, when she was busted, hurting, and need of someone to help her, she wouldn’t let her guard down. 

Instinctively, Geralt held Yennefer tighter and let her struggle against him; he murmured in her ear until she relented, allowing herself a moment and let the tears she’d been holding back fall. The tears that fell were for more than those lost at Sodden. They were for all the injustices she had fought against, the hate she had endured, the struggles that she overcame and for the joy of having survived it all despite the odds. 

There were no words Geralt could think of that would soothe her pain, but he hoped sitting with her in an abandoned shack just outside the ravaged battlefield would be enough.

Eventually, Yennefer settled again and the tears dried up. “You shouldn’t have come for me,” she mumbled. Her eyes were sore and exhaustion was starting to creep back into her body, the joy of sleep pulling her back towards the dark abyss. 

“I’ll always come for you, Yen.” he whispered. Kissing her brow, Geralt lifted Yennefer into his lap, her body fitting against him as if it was where she belonged and a sigh of contentment passed her lips. “You’re important to me.”

Tomorrow would bring another day, one filled with questions that had no answers and pain that had no cure, but for now they would be content in this little shack, with each other, and cling to the hope that it would be better.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In no way am I claiming this as accurate to the books and/or video games. I needed to scratch an itch after finishing season 1 of The Witcher on Netflix and this is what came to mind.


End file.
